In some important ways, The Fall and Rise of John
Elderkin and ¡Moonbeams No Mas! is a musical narrative about inspiration. This
seventeen song collection takes a lot of its cues from David Bowie’s seminal
classic The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and, while it may not share its
same commitment to gender bending theatrics, it does share many of the same narrative
ambitions and clearly draws from Bowie’s album as a reference point. Elderkin,
however, is an immensely talented songwriter who never finds himself bogged
down risking imitation. The seventeen songs on this album, instead, represent
how adeptly Elderkin has proven to be and taking an initial jumping off point
of inspiration and expanding on it with a creative and musical vision all his
own.

Few songs illustrate that better than the album’s
first full length number “We Waited Five Years”. You’ll hear few songs capable
of conjuring genuine gravitas with moments of unexpected, playful humor.
Elderkin’s voice emerges from the mix with bell-like clarity and clearly has
the capability of carrying a tune like this with warmth and personality. The
golden oldie jump rockabilly flavor of the song “Messy Down Below” sounds like
it was cut in a sweaty basement or garage and it’s certainly a major part of
its appeal. Elderkin has the voice for this, as well, and throws himself into
the performance with wild-eyed raucous glee. There are human voices creeping
into art rock atmosphere surrounding “The Message”, but no lyrics or words per
se. It is a brief number and has many of the qualities we’d otherwise associate
with a spiritual chant augmented by tastefully deployed keyboard textures.
There’s some electric guitar heard low in the mix on “Song for David Bowie”,
but much of this tune devotes itself to a sprightly acoustic guitar arrangement
punctuated by good drumming with a discernible and appealing swing.

The acoustic guitar dominates “Keep It Down” as
well, but there’s a dissonant edge cutting into the song’s second half quite
different than anything we heard in the aforementioned song. Elderkin
consistently makes keyboards work within the context of this music by using
them the right now – they are rarely used in a musical “leadership” role and,
instead, ably fill the gaps in Elderkin’s arrangements. The beautifully spartan
piano of “You Got Sick” finds an equally simplified match in Elderkin’s lyrics.
They are words that say more than they know and trying to uncover the song
beneath the song, the story behind the story, is part of the immense fun
listening to a song like this. “Fat Levon on Acid” is pure hilarity in
comparison. The guttural, fuzzed out bass and primordial drumming jarringly
contrast with the off the wall lyrics and imbues the song’s character with a
discernible shape and mood. “Sore Afraid” comes late in the album and does such
an effective job putting over its vulnerable demeanor that you will be
immediately drawn closer to its delicacy. “Give Me Your Hands” is a wonderful
finale for the album. It has some of the same zany humor that’s distinguished a
number of the cuts, but there’s an equal deference to the album’s serious
ambitions and a vital humanity coming through during every minute of this
performance. John Elderkin and his band have aimed high with this release and
it really can’t be heard as anything else but an unqualified success.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

“The ear tends to be lazy, craves the familiar and is shocked by the
unexpected,” according to W.H. Auden. “The eye, on the other hand, tends to be
impatient, craves the novel and is bored by repetition.” Biologically, this
makes perfect sense. The eye can take in more information at a faster pace, and
the information it takes in is literally right in front of us, so we feel
better prepared to deal with it. The ear, however, gets its information around
corners, from behind us, and in stereo. To the human brain, sound is intangible
and unpredictable, so it’s more likely to be jarring.

By that measure, then, Suntrodden’s latest offering is perhaps the most
appealing EP released in years. And if you parse that statement and think it
sounds snarky, I can promise you: no snark intended.

Suntrodden III, the final
installment of Erik Stephansson’s Suntrodden
trilogy, is certainly familiar and expected. You’ve likely heard each track
before, somewhere and somewhen, maybe on an elevator or in a pharmaceutical
commercial, and when you heard it you mostly ignored it. It’s five tracks blend
together, with each melting into the next and making the parts almost
indistinguishable from the whole. I know that seems dismissive, but again, I
can promise you it’s not.

Elsewhere on the Internet you might find comparisons to Radiohead and
Elliott Smith, but III lacks the angsty immediacy of
the former and the tortured-artist sensibilities of the later. It’s safer,
easier, and less challenging—not quite a watered-down version of those icons,
but certainly with a chaser. With III’s
jangly tambourines and breezy melodies, a better comparison might be The
Archies’ “Sugar, Sugar” or Simon & Garfunkel’s “April Come She Will,” or
some other crowd-pleasing 1960’s folk-pop standard. III is lo-fi, indie bubble-gum.For a musician, that could be a sentence to purgatory, but for the last
time: it’s not meant to be.

Suntrodden III doesn’t break new ground or test
any limits. Its melancholy opening track (“There’s a Place”) tempers the
potential gloom with a xylophone, while track two (“Pure”) gives us a
Summer-of-Love tambourine backbeat and an airy falsetto chorus. “Moonflower”
tricks us into thinking it will break the mold, but after the piano prelude it
relaxes into III’s expected groove.
Then we’re on to “Never Again,” which combines all the prior pieces into a
thesis-statement whole. Only the final track (“The End [Haunt Me]”) creates a
momentary exception to III’s
rules--with its rising orchestral opening and a moody, Ben Folds-esque piano
ballad in the middle—but even this outlier eventually settles into the
formula.

So, if
it’s so utterly formulaic, why give it a listen? That’s an easy one: you should
listen to Suntrodden III precisely because it’s formulaic . . . and the
formula works. That’s the good thing about a formula: when it’s mixed right, it
does exactly what it’s supposed to do, and III
is mixed right. Stephansson knows what he’s doing: the song structures are
pleasantly predictable, the instrumentation is soothing, and the themes are
comfy like a well-worn pair of slippers. It’s the kind of album you can play a
hundred times as you go about your day—it’ll provide a soundtrack for a trip to
the beach, it’ll help you decompress after a hard day at the office, and it’ll
loop in the background, undistractingly, as you write a review of it. It is
unassuming in the best way possible, and if that makes it elevator music, so
what? No one wants to ride in a silent elevator.

Suntrodden III’s strength lies in its safety
and anonymity. Rather than blazing trails or shooting the moon, Stephansson
gives us five tracks of warm blankets on cold nights. He gives us familiar and
expected. He gives us bubble gum. Who doesn’t like bubble gum?

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Making
his own way is what Sam Green is doing with The Time Machine, his music project
which gives direction to those looking for calm waters in the music world keeps
going on the CD - Which Way Is Left? If you like Australia, folk-oriented rock
about the wilderness and all things positive, then this collection of tunes about
that and more is right up your alley. If you’re looking for razzle-dazzle and
period garb, you won’t find it here. But it does pay some respect to the form
of music that some of the folk and world music groups of today are getting away
with.

These gimmicks are of no need to Sam Green, that is all. It’s not the
millennial style folk, so to speak. What it does have is something to behold
for the raw, stripped back music seekers. Acoustic-driven all the way, with
some moments that smolder on guitar and violin, however it’s all pulled off
around his heavily narrative, spoken-word singing style. Something like that
will always be on old school thing, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t any modern
aspects to it. There is a substance to any style if you keep to the simple
strengths Sam Green does. Otherwise it can be easy to get lost in this rootsy
genre. But it’s not exactly easy to take this in large doses if you’re not into
folk, it’s just a fact of the matter. It’s best to have some sense of it,
rather than starting with Sam Green. But beginners can start wherever they
want, it’s just that appreciation for such art is tricky. Not being a major fan
doesn’t help me any better than anyone else. But knowing and liking are two
different things, so, the album works if you have and use that sense. But on
the down side, tracks like “Eli” and “Howdido” tend to drag somewhat, even
though they also hold some fantastic guitar works and technically stronger
parts than other songs.

These are times where it doesn’t come together as much as during more
successful efforts but they’re somehow better songs anyway. It’s worth
mentioning because it’s hard to find anything lacking in these songs. But as an
artist Sam Green doesn’t rely on bells and whistles to get by with. Take it or
leave it, but like with most folk it is the downright honesty in the music that
matters. Marketing will never come first in this category, but this CD deserves
as much coverage as any. I liked “Mist Of The Dersert” but couldn’t understand
why it is spelled that way when it isn’t pronounced that way. Maybe it should
be “Desert?” But you never know anymore with titles in the internet age. For my
attraction to folk, that’s the best song but not the only one featured. There’s
several to chew on that keep up with it. “Google Me” gets down deep, and so
does “Love For A Moment.” Those two work the same way as more like love songs
that can be called music pieces just as much as being storytelling vehicles.
Both are soulful, thoughtful and well-written for the times we live in.
Of-course there is a lot more to this CD and Sam Green himself, but it would
take up too much space to cover every single angle. I will point out another
Sam Green song “Angelsea” to get an even better read on the Time Machine, as
well as all to be found at the website.

Paul Kloschinsky was born in Saskatchewan in 1963.
He attended the University of British Columbia in the 1980’s and received a BSc
in Computer Science and an MD. After living and working across Canada he has
returned to his hometown of Delta, BC, Canada. He has played in a few rock
bands in the Vancouver area since High School. He is now a Folk-Rock Singer
Songwriter. He won the 2007 MusicAid Award for Best Canadian Songwriter for his
original song Wearin’ Blue. He released his first album, Woodlands, February
24, 2009 on Prism/Universal in Canada. In addition to being a songwriter, he is
also an avid poet and photographer. That is as much background he’s working
with besides the mention of several subsequent releases which have culminated
into “Crime Of Passion” with mixed results coming from this direction. The
songs are good and his voice is strong, but the songwriting and production are
what suffer the most for a better than not album. This makes it worth sharing
some good and bad thoughts, which are neither here nor there, but might help
anyway. It wasn’t easy to even get in the right mood to give proper perspective
to this until it hit me and dawned that it’s folk for the most part, when I was
expecting a “rock” artist.

Once that was over I was able-to give it a better chance but still don’t find
it overly spectacular in the process. As a folk-artist I would still expect
more energy to back words of wisdom usually contained within the songwriting
formula, but it could just be my own in-familiarity with him. That’s no mark
against this release, it just shows my lack of knowledge and leaves me up to
describing some of the tracks, hoping to turn the right ears onto it. For the
sake of the song it’s never that hard to give an objective opinion no matter
how into the genre, as-long as it’s good it’s still worth expressing a thing or
two about.

“I’m Still Waiting” doesn’t promise a lot, so you can see hesitation is already
temping, but it’s not a total loss as the album opener either. You do get where
he’s singing from, which is straight from the heart. It helps him to get these
lyrics of his mind, and that is clearly written all over the words. It’s
pretty-deep but not so deep that it bores you to tears or anything. There’s
just a pedestrian vibe to this, which doesn’t impress right off the bat. “Crime
Of Passion” would have been a better opportunity to open with more punch, and
that’s only the first thing I noticed. There’s more, much much more.

This follows with an even more melodramatic vocal delivery that actually-works this
time. But this all takes a few listens to really absorb the beauty of this
album as a-whole and that is why the most inspiring moments make up the best
way to get the word out there about it. The product always deserves more
description than the artist, so if you want the best of what this has-to offer,
look no further than the tracks I’ve described, along with the greatness to be
found in that of “Sooth Me” “Not Frightened To Be Free” and last but not least
the final sleeper track “Gates Of Heaven” which you’ll have to hear to figure
that and the rest out.

What Kazyak lack may in one aspect, they make
certainly up for in others if that is the case to be made. It depends on your
line of thinking, as they put together more than one style on Happy Camping.
Let’s stick to what’s great about this album, which by the way is too short to
be referred to as anything but an EP. Albeit it that way, it does have its big
moments to hold it down and keep it classified however the consumer sees fit,
and that includes any outlets where to find it. So many reviews are getting out
without the artist being signed, all that matters is to give an opinion on
their work.
This album starts out with “Sacred Cow” and it’s a killer way to come in and
ease the mind of any mystery as to what this band are capable of. It is
absolutely a cake walk listening to the beauty of this, but you don’t get a
read on the rest by any of it. It’s the only drawback to this amazing way to
get the ball rolling. It might drone on too long if you don’t get off on the
pace, but if you do it does a job on the senses that puts some other tracks on
the album beneath it. I’m not saying they don’t stand up, but it is a cool way
to ring in what they have-to say and entice with a finesse not often found
anymore. What that all means for anyone is usually good things when it reaches
the right ears, but are those ears in the right places or not is the question
so many are looking for the answer too. It doesn’t appear Kazyak are doing
that. They seem to be riding with their own tides, and ebbing on as they see
fit instead of following any trends. They could be setting trends for all to
see as time keeps on. “Sundial” is an equally remarkable tune that doesn’t let
up anymore-than the former. Both cruise into where the horizon comes out for
you or not. It’s the rest that you’ll consider smooth or lumpy gravy.

“Basin” is where that journey begins, but it might be good enough to blind you
from getting there, by already being there thus far. Some things are so good
the rest don’t matter, if that is any hint to drop concerning this track. It
takes effort though, or no difference can be detected. If that works, then so
should “When I Lived In Carolina.” But if it doesn’t, you might as well give
up. This is where it all sinks in or doesn’t. But once again I’m not going to
spoil it be describing how. Let the music do the talking after, not before the
chance to rate it with any substantial points to be made.

“Darker” is just that, a darker song to throw another stick in the mud. It
brings out a four of-six overall rating from me, but it doesn’t mean there is
one bum note to actually-be found on it. There’s just a couple of lows among
the highs to reach for in the balance of light from darkness and vice versa.
You also should read up to know where this album comes from in concept, to help
all-the more without getting too deep in this review. “Happy Camper” gets to
take the exit spot, which is another oddity thrown in, as the title track
usually opens and doesn’t close an album. This is another mark for, and not
against it.

Thursday, July 6, 2017

From the so many things that I have heard and of which
I have made some reviews, this is by far one of the most interesting. It is
about the songstress Elle Casazza, originally from Michigan and currently based
in the city of Chicago. Casazza shows us a proposal of how business were done
way back before and are still in force today, the golden age of jazz, soul and
GOOD pop music is not dead yet (our hopes in pop music have revived). This
project brings to life an interesting infusion of genres and musical forms that
you don’t see frequently on the radio but once it gets noticed people will be
asking for it over and over.

The content is appropriately delicate resulting in a
very careful, sensible and very well thought-out sound, true to the roots of
the forms that can be appreciated and the times it is inspired from (seriously
you are going to take a trip back in time and you will feel that you are in a
60’s movie and some hipsters are going to recognize the smooth vibes from the
40s). The first thing you can see on the record and what you will reign is
jazz, with elements of the rock'n'roll form, in the tracks 'Hey', 'Save me',
that serve as an introduction to the album. You can also notice in 'Last word'
(if you've listened enough to Bruno Mars) those funky vibes that will surely
make you want to move your feet to the beat. These first two songs illustrate
very well what you can expect from the rest of the tracks. Then we find mergers
between reggae and jazz elements in 'Too bad' and 'Cooking' respectively, the
last one mentioned containing harmonizations in the style of the 30s and 40s.
Casazza also shows us her most sensitive side with the ballads 'The Body Knows'
and 'You' showcasing the genius within the composition of both and the clever
result of mixing a jazz, blues and pop cocktail. In these she makes a great
sample of her vocal abilities and set thing straight about her as a real
singer, consistent vocals and definitely is not another one using and abusing
autotune. 'Is not it good' is the closing theme of the album that although it
is a beautiful ballad in coherence with the previous ones, could be used for a
romantic scene of a film according to the whole concept of this record, a
perfect ending for a perfectly made compilation of sounds. As for the visual
and photographic concept, there is nothing more to say than simply beautiful,
the selection of colors and frames were selected perfectly, the style is girly,
flowery and very fresh. Visual consumers will love it and appreciate it. Elle
Casazza has a proposal which not only is very smart, but also original, not
everybody who mixes several rhythms has a successful or at least a pleasant
result. Her ideas are exposed in a very clear and concise way, rather than
looking for a direction she makes her own way and creates her own path without
any fear of trying and experiencing.

I assure you, this will appeal to you. Take some of
your time to enjoy her music and show her some love. Also, be sure to check out
Elle Casazza's official sites and pay close attention to her social networks
for upcoming events, news and more.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

The
thirteen songs on Paul Childers’ debut album Naked Poetry are an emphatic
musical statement. It’s a reverberating opening salvo for a career seemingly
certain of longevity and leaving behind a meaningful influence for performers
who follow him. Few singers and songwriters land in the public consciousness
with such resounding effect and it virtually assures anyone listening that this
is an artist who intends to produce high caliber music for years to come. The
dominating style on Naked Poetry, nuanced R&B typically boasting a brass
section, There are some interesting variations occurring over the course of
thirteen songs, but Childers moves from one approach to another with unshakable
confidence. It’s not the sort of thing musical performers typically possess so
early on, at such a young age, but Childers has the sort of poise that comes
along once in a generation. This is a potentially iconic career in the offing.

His
self-assurance comes through from the first. “Music Will Pull You Through” and
“The Art of Being Twenty” are a fantastic one-two punch that serves notice
Naked Poetry aims to be a substantive artistic statement. The first of the two
songs concentrates more on conveying a sense of universality through
storytelling while the latter song hits on much more personal sounding
sentiments and strikes a nice contrast with the album’s opener. “Why Don’t You
Stay?” shows that Childers has a remarkable talent for inhabiting the slow drag
of a real R&B burner. It’s all the more remarkable how well Naked Poetry
holds together when you consider Childers’ willingness to take different
directions from song to song. The track “At Our Own Pace” moves from a patient
R&B style with an emphasis on blues to the deep pocket and slinky sounds
heard on “At Our Own Pace” and do so without missing a step. He projects the
same vocal confidence on this song that’s stamped on the album’s other ten
tracks and it makes it quite an entertaining ride. “My Love of the Rain” comes
at an excellent place in the album’s procession – near the mid way point – and
works better than you could ever expect as the album’s cinematic heart. It does
a superb job with only a few essential musical elements and builds to all of
the right crescendos without ever cheapening the moment.

“Emma”
has a very different flavor from the other songs for a variety of reasons but
the curious rhythms of the song differ most noticeably from his approach in the
other material. It doesn’t compromise his vocal, however – time in, time out,
on Naked Poetry, Childers gives evidence that he can handle any style. “No One
Goes Dancing Anymore” is one of the high points of the album’s second half and
blends stylish R&B with pure pop strengths in a way that’s sure to win adherents.
“Disclosure” is a different kettle of fish as well. It recalls the personal
touch we heard on the album’s second track, but there’s a much cloudier tint
hanging over the track than we ever heard from “The Art of Being Twenty”.
“Throwing Shade” is the album’s last moment of pure glorious invention. The
incongruous marriage of the upbeat musical arrangement and the darkly comic,
somewhat cynical lyric is quite dramatic. There’s an embarrassment of riches on
this album – Paul Childers has clearly harnessed all of his powers to make this
a meaningful initial album that will stand the test of his sure to be long
career.

About Me

Student at University of Oregon. Persuing a degree in Jornalism and Marketing. Writing Intern for Indie Music Media LLC based out of Seattle, WA. I enjoy writing music reviews that are informative, honest and positive.